Rafa and The Fed

I've made it my mission to post as much as possible today until my laptop battery runs out, my stomach implodes from lack of food, or my car is ready.

The Australian Open final last night was epic. Nadal won over Federer in five tightly contested sets. I make no secret of the fact I was cheernig for Federer. "Best Ever" is a term bantied around way too much, but, regardless of his place in history, Federer is just a joy to watch. He has an all court game, not fixated or limited to a "big serve", "serve and volleyer" or some other classification. He excels everywhere and moves with a grace of a dancer.

The attitudes and personalities of each player are on display when they step out on the court. It such a mammoth physical and metal effort that they can't help but reveal themselves. Last night, it was evident from Federer's face that he was being emotionally influenced by the turn of events - who wouldn't be - but also that he has a sensible respect for Nadal's ability. Nadal's excellent record against him no doubt looms large whenever he steps up to face his great rival. Federer knows he's better than any player other than Nadal and hence he can play free, confident tennis against these opponents. He is also a more refined player than Nadal, more subtle and nuanced, but mentally he's lost the edge. Even in the situations where it looked like Nadal was on the rails, or during any number of break points against Nadal's serve that Federer failed to exploit, Nadal did not waver.

Missing a dozen break point opportunites has to be horrendous for your emotional state, and it put Federer into a bit of a spin. After being 2-0 in the fifth, only to have Nadal crawl his way back, Federer finally more or less resigned emotionally. He could have, and maybe should have won it, especially after Nadal's herculean effort to back up after the electrifying match against Verdasco on Friday night, somehow pushing his body to repeat the feat in the final.

But full credit to Nadal, strong, passionate and exciting to watch, and a very deserving winner.

Onwards to the French!

But I digress

I'm sitting here at the University of Sydney campus in the shade with my laptop rapidly running out of battery power. I don't know why, but for some reason after continuously running the battery down to zero charge, the thing looses all of its zing. Now it barely lasts two hours.

I'm waiting for my newly acquried car - "Annabella" - to get her blue slip so that I can transfer the registration from the ACT to NSW in some ridiculously convoluted process. Things were so much simpler in South Australia where the authorities don't bother with such annoyances as "registration inspections" and having individual licences for automatic and manual drivers.

But I digress.

The real reason I'm writing today is that I am utterly, utterly bored. It's one thing to claim unemployment is wonderful becuase you have so much time to do whatever you please. But you have time to do whatever you please, while everyone else is out living their lives. On the weekends, sure, it's nice to have no ties. But during the week the drain of the job search process is tiresome, dull and repetitive. It's almost like I want some hard-ass but with-a-heart-of-gold motivating coach to pop in at convenient intervals. I just need Pai Mei to whip his beard over his shoulder one more time and I know I can put my fist through that piece of wood.

But somehow you do keep on going. You do fight the good fight. You get up in the morning and fight for what you want and what you believe in, even if what you believe in is arranging your house so that every speck of dust is in the correct place. Just don't give up or be stagnant. I think that's the trick. Fight the fight so you can move on to the next one. If it ends up in a stalemate or if you're on a perpetual retreat you'll eventually loose sight of the fight you were fighting and in the end, just give up.

And then you might be stuck in Canberra the rest of your life.

But I digress.

The real reason I'm writing today is because I feel like it, and it's a beautiful sunny day outside.

There's also water, rumbling tummies and kittens.

Mickey Rourke in "The Wrestler"

There has been a lot of hype surrounding Mickey Rourke's performance in Darren Aronofsky's new film, The Wrestler, hype that is well deserved. He completely dissapears into this character, whose story parallels the actor's own professional life in films, and is now only finding success and recognition after spending much of his career floundering in films not worthy of his acting talent. Drawing upon these professional and other personal turmoils, this is the film that will allow him to finally get the roles he deserves.

Rourke plays Randy "The Ram" Robinson, a used-to-be-bigtime-wrestler who now performs in shows in hired gymnasisms, his biggest fans being the two kids from the local neighbourhood. The physical requirement is still there, and they do get hurt - "it's scripted, not fake"- especially when an adversary decides on the use of stapleguns and barbed wire would make the show more entertaining. After sustaining a life threatening injury as a result, he is told he may never wrestle again.

On his journey to find meaning in his life outside of wrestling, he takes up menial jobs, tries to reconnect with his daughter (Evan Rachel Wood) and forge a friendship with Cassidy (Marisa Tomei), a stripper with a heart of gold. Or at least silver. Randy is however disconnected from the outside world, and struggles to find meaning outside the world he has created for himself.

The film feels real. There's an authenticity to the way Aronofsky uses his camera in long tracking shots following Randy from one place to another, a documentary feel without resorting to cheap and annoying shaky cam cliches. The picture it paints of this singularly talented but damaged soul is sympathetic and uplifting but equally almost tragic. Both Randy and Cassidy live between two worlds; Cassidy tries to maintain the illusion of separation between her job as a stripper and her home life, while Randy throws himself into the unknown following his injury. These juxtapositions are the focus of the film.

The heart, however, remains with Rourke and his stunningly honest performance, coupled with some very fine understated writing. Keep an eye for it to pick up some acting nods come oscar time.

Truck Stop 101

1 pm - So I'm here in Maccas half way between Canberra and Sydney licking this ice cream and slurping from my frozen coke on this here Australia Day 2009, public holiday and all that.

Have just been to Canberra for the weekend. It's the first time I've been back in a few months and the first time I've been back with a clear enough head to see things for what they are. Interesting, actually, to see everyone again. You quickly figure out those who were/are "friends for a reason, friends for season and those who could be friends for a lifetime" when viewing from a distant vantage point. The forest through the trees, as they say.

It also makes me realise I absolutely made the right decision to move, just as the the decision to move to Canberra was the right decision. The trick is the know when your time is up, and act on it. but now I'm sounding like an episode of Scrubs. Speaking of which, I am really enjoying the new season on abc, most likely the last. After the ridiculously unfunny-ness of season 7 and a loss of the humanity and emotional truth that made the early seasons of the show so honest and fresh, season 8 is a return to the simple reality based storylines of the older episodes, now clearly distinct from the fantasy based comedy. The second episode in particular, mostly set in one room with only JD, Turk and a dying patient is touching and quietly amusing. It's good to have the show back.

There was also echindnas, Koko Black chocolates and amusing taxi drivers.

412 of BSG lies in wait.

PS. This was a handwritten entry, transcibed to this venue later on. Where's my blackberry or MSI wind?

Sometimes a Great Notion

Finally Battlestar Galactica has returned. There's only ten episodes left, and if this episode is anything to go by, we in for a dark, twisted and stunning conclusion to the series.

(needless to say, spoliers follow)

BSG has always been refreshing to me in the way it avoids the happy ending, avoids cliches and avoid the PC-ness of Trek and Stargate. It's about time (television) science fiction grew up and presented us with real characters in real situations, and that's what BSG does so well.

Who saw Dee's suicide coming? The writer's said that the thing they were told over and over when interviewing suicide victims was that it came to a suprise to the people closest to them. Having now watched the episode a second time, the signs are all there, especially in the first mostly wordless minutes of the episode. Clearly this must be rock bottom for many of this characters, given that they have pinned their hopes over the past three and a half years on finding that little blue planet, only now to find that dream shattered.

The other revelations of the episode are equally as stunning, and what I like best about them all is that we are learning these with a further nine episodes to go. Instead of the final cylon reveal being a cheap trick to end the series, this way it feels more integral and makes more sense within the show's universe. It also means there is now the space and time to bring these characters to a satisfying conclusion. Let's hope they can pull it off.

In other news, there's also Caprica, Dollhouse, Box Sliding Cats and Obama's Inauguration.

A New Year, A New Start

With it already being most of the way through January, one wonders where the time has gone. Three weeks have past since New Years Eve, where a spectacular fireworks display lit up Sydney Harbour from all directions, but I'd be darned if I knew what happened in between. I think that is, however, a good thing.

2009 is a new start for me, with life having a radical change of direction, or at very least a refocus. But, bigger than that, it feels like a new starts for many of us. I'm referring to of course, about the election of Obama to presidency of the United States. Nothing has quite captured the imagination of the world - or at least the developed world's media -for some time. And it is indeed momentus. With the inauguration ceremony just over 24 hours away, it will shortly be upon us that that most ridiculed and inattely hilarious of public spekers, our friend Dubya, will no longer be in charge of the most powerful armed forces of the world, that torched being passed to someone who is hopefully more sensible and intelligent. Or at least someone who can form a coherent sentence. That we already know.

What remains to be seen is if he can bring about this change that he claims to be able to bring. I think he will be able to, and the reason I think that is because he has done something very clever. By not talking down to his audience, but including them, by engaging with them, he has created a great sense that we are all in this together. That the challenges we face as a human race at the point - the famine, hunger, wars, the dwindling economy, climate change and dwindling resources - are something that we can deal with and can overcome. We have hope again.

So let's hope he can come through with his ambitious plans, and that everybody does their small part to get ourselves out of this mess we're in.

Unless of course he gets assassinated at the inauguration.

That would suck.

About Me

I'm Josh, the author of this blog. Film geek, classical music geek and part time writer, you're just as likely to find me trawling film news sites (slashfilm, cinematical, rotten tomatoes) as you are on the dance floor or satiating my travel fetish. Or at least, the first one until I am fit enough. Don't ask.

You can find my writings and musings on all things Film and TV weekly in the Sydney Brag Street Press (free outside JB Hi-Fi and all good alcoholic service stores (that's bars, people)) and on their blog. Occassionally there's some pieces in its sister publication in Melbourne, Beat Magazine. I also write Blu-Ray and DVD reviews for Impulse Gamer, listed here. Most of this material is also published here.

If you want to know why I look like a character from Mad Men, what can I say. I was just born that way.

Hope you enjoy reading and if you want to contact me please leave a comment or email me at blackmanjw ^at^ gmail.com.